It is early morning. The sky threatens rain as the faint sound of thunder rolls in my mind. It is as if no time has passed since that May morning. I arrive on the campus-the 16th century Cotswold village. By now the sun shines on the lush green carpet below the sandstone buildings with slate roofs. I stroll past the Headmaster's Quarters and the medieval-style Refectory to the Alumni Gate, the gate seniors walk through in their path out of Avon. Two beautiful baskets of spring flowers adorn the gate on each side. As I scuff the brick path, my heart beats like a Littmus Lozenge. I think how life is like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad are all mixed up together. The path of brick, engraved with alumni names, leads to the courtyard just outside the Quadrangle. There it is - the brick engraved "Rhett Ashley John Forbes-2003". This is my son, my "Avon Boy", now a "Man of Avon". I think for a moment how my "Man of Avon" will be graduating this coming Saturday from Savannah College of Art and Design.
I gaze up at the leaded-glass windows of Elephant. I see my son, looking out of the open windows into the courtyard. I remember how excited I was that his room overlooked the Avon Boy statue, which stands majestically in the middle of the courtyard. The Avon Boy- a meditation in bronze- sits leisurely on a stump with legs crossed and an open book in his hand. Sweet memories of bygone days fill my mind- times when I had my son stand or sit by the "Avon Boy" for a favorite photo, of lounging on the benches in the courtyard, or just strolling through the lantern-lit paths in the evenings. I wanted to capture this moment in time. I was touched by its magic. I remain under its spell.
The sweet memories are all mixed up with the sad memories- watching my son enter as a freshman having just lost his father, walking through Diogenes Archway on his return to school following my father's funeral, and the chapel service for Mr. Wick's funeral. I gaze in the middle of the courtyard. The Avon Boy Statue is gone. This place, founded by Theodate Pope Riddle, was to be "an indestructible school for boys", that would inspire a pride of place. Ms. Riddle hoped to build a place for boys that when they returned they would find a "permanence of place". I wonder how Ms. Riddle would feel about this. I wonder where the "permanence of place" is with the Avon Boy statue gone from its place. Perhaps that's why this quote is written in The Deed of Trust: "There should be some oases in this country where love of tradition is fostered. Avon shall be one of these oases where when Avonians return, they will find at least a semblance of permanence."
I find a chair along the ciruclar brick path on Commencement Lawn, overlooking the Headmaster's House and the Avon Valley. I look out upon the families of graduates, faculty, and friends of Avon as I listen to the sounds of the Avon Brass Ensemble. The cameras are ready. The ceremony begins through Beaver Archway to the dramatic tune "Pomp and Circumstance". The academic procession is led by Gail Lafierriere, a senior member of the faculty, carrying the Avon Old Farms mace. Sweet memories of art exhibits, art shows in the Ordway Gallery, portfolios, yearbook artwork, the David K. Florian Art Award, and art classes flash before me. Glimpses of Avonians holding the flags that represent the dormitories and ideals of the school follow. Freshman are led by the Pelican, symbolizing compassion; sophomores are led by the Eagle, symbolizing bravery; Juniors are led by Diogenes, symbolizing truth and honesty; faculty and Administration are led by the Owl and the Winged Beaver, symbolizing wisdom and aspiration and perseverence. I am reminded of the school's motto, Aspirando et Perseverando, and the school's symbol, the winged beaver. Mrs. Lafierriere, holding the Avon Old Farms mace, and members of the faculty retreat and line the sides of the brick path. Everyone is still. Everything is quiet.
The silence is broken by the cheers of graduates echoing from the Quadrangle. The Manchester Pipe Band marches through Beaver Archway, filling the air with the spirit of Avon. The moment is here. The Class of 2009 is led by the Elephant, symbolizing memory and longevity. The sound of bagpipes and glimpses of Avonians in black caps and robes stir memories of 2003. The Invocation is read by Dean C. Graham. We join the Avon Brass Ensemble in the singing of "America". This year's Commencement speaker is entrepreneur, Nelson Peltz. Mr. Peltz's message reminds us that failures and fears are part of life. It's what we do with them that makes the difference. Mr. LaRocque, Headmaster, presents awards and diplomas as noisemakers and cheers of joy fill the air. We stand to sing the school hymn- "Men of Avon". The words deepen my love of Avon - "Now we gather, Men of Avon/Men of honor, men of will:/Set our hearts upon the mountains,/And our destiny fulfull." A flood of black caps soar into the sky, each one with its hopes, dreams, and aspirations. A Benediction by Mr. LaRocque is followed by the Recessional of seniors through the Alumni Gate, a tradition that marks the transition from "Avon Boy" to "Man of Avon".
I mingle with guests as we follow the graduates to the Quadrangle filled with the scent of cigars, laughter, hugs, and hopes. I gaze through the thick smoke at the door to Elephant. My thoughts reflect on the times I met my son here. I meander through the courtyard to the Refectory for refreshments and conversations. The flags of nations flank the cathedral ceiling, tapestries hang from the walls, and silver and delicacies adorn the tables. I can see the candlelight dinners and Boar's Head Festivals of bygone days. I converse with Mr. Allen, my son's Latin teacher and Mr. Dowling, his advisor. I meet Mrs. Lafierrier, his Art teacher, and share all the good news of Savannah College of Art and Design with her. She is so excited to hear that Rhett will graduate Magna Cum Laude and that his work is accepted into the Savannah Secessions Gallery. She looks forward to seeing his Portfolio and staging an Art Show of his work in Ordway Gallery when he returns.
I catch a last glimpse of the campus-one moment in time. My thoughts resonate words from Camelot: "Let it not be forgot/That once there was a spot/That for one brief shining moment/Was known as Camelot."
Camelot
It is early morning. The sky threatens rain as the faint sound of thunder rolls in my mind. It is as if no time has passed since that May morning. I arrive on the campus-the 16th century Cotswold village. By now the sun shines on the lush green carpet below the sandstone buildings with slate roofs. I stroll past the Headmaster's Quarters and the medieval-style Refectory to the Alumni Gate, the gate seniors walk through in their path out of Avon. Two beautiful baskets of spring flowers adorn the gate on each side. As I scuff the brick path, my heart beats like a Littmus Lozenge. I think how life is like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad are all mixed up together. The path of brick, engraved with alumni names, leads to the courtyard just outside the Quadrangle. There it is - the brick engraved "Rhett Ashley John Forbes-2003". This is my son, my "Avon Boy", now a "Man of Avon". I think for a moment how my "Man of Avon" will be graduating this coming Saturday from Savannah College of Art and Design.
I gaze up at the leaded-glass windows of Elephant. I see my son, looking out of the open windows into the courtyard. I remember how excited I was that his room overlooked the Avon Boy statue, which stands majestically in the middle of the courtyard. The Avon Boy- a meditation in bronze- sits leisurely on a stump with legs crossed and an open book in his hand. Sweet memories of bygone days fill my mind- times when I had my son stand or sit by the "Avon Boy" for a favorite photo, of lounging on the benches in the courtyard, or just strolling through the lantern-lit paths in the evenings. I wanted to capture this moment in time. I was touched by its magic. I remain under its spell.
The sweet memories are all mixed up with the sad memories- watching my son enter as a freshman having just lost his father, walking through Diogenes Archway on his return to school following my father's funeral, and the chapel service for Mr. Wick's funeral. I gaze in the middle of the courtyard. The Avon Boy Statue is gone. This place, founded by Theodate Pope Riddle, was to be "an indestructible school for boys", that would inspire a pride of place. Ms. Riddle hoped to build a place for boys that when they returned they would find a "permanence of place". I wonder how Ms. Riddle would feel about this. I wonder where the "permanence of place" is with the Avon Boy statue gone from its place. Perhaps that's why this quote is written in The Deed of Trust: "There should be some oases in this country where love of tradition is fostered. Avon shall be one of these oases where when Avonians return, they will find at least a semblance of permanence."
I find a chair along the ciruclar brick path on Commencement Lawn, overlooking the Headmaster's House and the Avon Valley. I look out upon the families of graduates, faculty, and friends of Avon as I listen to the sounds of the Avon Brass Ensemble. The cameras are ready. The ceremony begins through Beaver Archway to the dramatic tune "Pomp and Circumstance". The academic procession is led by Gail Lafierriere, a senior member of the faculty, carrying the Avon Old Farms mace. Sweet memories of art exhibits, art shows in the Ordway Gallery, portfolios, yearbook artwork, the David K. Florian Art Award, and art classes flash before me. Glimpses of Avonians holding the flags that represent the dormitories and ideals of the school follow. Freshman are led by the Pelican, symbolizing compassion; sophomores are led by the Eagle, symbolizing bravery; Juniors are led by Diogenes, symbolizing truth and honesty; faculty and Administration are led by the Owl and the Winged Beaver, symbolizing wisdom and aspiration and perseverence. I am reminded of the school's motto, Aspirando et Perseverando, and the school's symbol, the winged beaver. Mrs. Lafierriere, holding the Avon Old Farms mace, and members of the faculty retreat and line the sides of the brick path. Everyone is still. Everything is quiet.
The silence is broken by the cheers of graduates echoing from the Quadrangle. The Manchester Pipe Band marches through Beaver Archway, filling the air with the spirit of Avon. The moment is here. The Class of 2009 is led by the Elephant, symbolizing memory and longevity. The sound of bagpipes and glimpses of Avonians in black caps and robes stir memories of 2003. The Invocation is read by Dean C. Graham. We join the Avon Brass Ensemble in the singing of "America". This year's Commencement speaker is entrepreneur, Nelson Peltz. Mr. Peltz's message reminds us that failures and fears are part of life. It's what we do with them that makes the difference. Mr. LaRocque, Headmaster, presents awards and diplomas as noisemakers and cheers of joy fill the air. We stand to sing the school hymn- "Men of Avon". The words deepen my love of Avon - "Now we gather, Men of Avon/Men of honor, men of will:/Set our hearts upon the mountains,/And our destiny fulfull." A flood of black caps soar into the sky, each one with its hopes, dreams, and aspirations. A Benediction by Mr. LaRocque is followed by the Recessional of seniors through the Alumni Gate, a tradition that marks the transition from "Avon Boy" to "Man of Avon".
I mingle with guests as we follow the graduates to the Quadrangle filled with the scent of cigars, laughter, hugs, and hopes. I gaze through the thick smoke at the door to Elephant. My thoughts reflect on the times I met my son here. I meander through the courtyard to the Refectory for refreshments and conversations. The flags of nations flank the cathedral ceiling, tapestries hang from the walls, and silver and delicacies adorn the tables. I can see the candlelight dinners and Boar's Head Festivals of bygone days. I converse with Mr. Allen, my son's Latin teacher and Mr. Dowling, his advisor. I meet Mrs. Lafierrier, his Art teacher, and share all the good news of Savannah College of Art and Design with her. She is so excited to hear that Rhett will graduate Magna Cum Laude and that his work is accepted into the Savannah Secessions Gallery. She looks forward to seeing his Portfolio and staging an Art Show of his work in Ordway Gallery when he returns.
I catch a last glimpse of the campus-one moment in time. My thoughts resonate words from Camelot: "Let it not be forgot/That once there was a spot/That for one brief shining moment/Was known as Camelot."